


Out of time

by CraftyCreature



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Fluff and Angst, Giant robot - Freeform, Gore, Harpoon, M/M, Mistakes, More Eddsworld trash, Tord suffers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-19 23:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CraftyCreature/pseuds/CraftyCreature
Summary: This takes place after the end (yeah i know really original) /what would happen if Paul and Patryck never came to Tord's aid/ I was bored/ i feel like this is too dramatic





	Out of time

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is very poorly written, but i hope you enjoy!

Ringing. Distant ringing. The sound pierced his ears like sharp needles. Once the annoying noise subsided, Tord slowly opened his eyes. The light blinded him. He blinked a few times before struggling to his knees. Pain flared up in the right side of his body. Where did the pain come from? Tord hadn't noticed it before. He slowly raised his right arm to his face and nearly threw up. What was left of his arm was a mangled mess. The tissue was ripped in all sorts of places and was scarred to his fingertips, and his arm was covered in blood, which ran down his arm. Tord assumed the rest of the right side of his body looked the same. 

He groaned, collapsing onto the ground. That just made it worse. Agony burned through his broken body, causing Tord to cry out in pain. Tord's breathing grew more ragged. His weak form shook with each breath. The small pool of blood coming from his head slowly grew, soaking through his hoodie and turning the fabric and even darker shade of red. He could care less. He'd probably be dead in a few minutes anyway. A few tears ran down his scarred face. The salt in them stung his wounds even more than they already hurt. 

"Why am I crying?" Tord thought. “I know I deserve this…” 

“My friends! I-I cant believe I hurt my friends, the closest people I had to family… I failed them…"

Tord weakly crawled to his knees once more. He looked around. The wind quietly whistled around him. All he could see were broken pieces of red metal and other debris. He could see off in the distance the smoldering remains of their house he blew up. He coughed into his left sleeve for minute, the metallic taste of iron in his blood filling his mouth.

Small fires flickered on the ash-covered the ground around him. The air smelled like smoke. Tord felt himself as if in a distant nightmare or in a senseless trance. A burnt piece of paper gently blew past him. He reached out and took it. He sadly gazed at it. It was a picture. From the house. It was of him and his friends: Tom, Matt, and Edd. The moment was captured when they had a giant pillow fight. Feathers decorated the living room, and assorted pills were strewn across the floor. They all appeared laughing, having a good time.  
Tord knew he would never have that again. Even if he lived, his friends would never forgive him. Not after what he did. Not after he betrayed and hurt them. Although painful, Tord clutched the picture tight in his hand. 

“Snap out of it.”

He was running out of time. He needed to apologize to his friends.

"Edd!?" Tord called.

"Tom!? Matt?!" 

He helplessly staggered around. Even though it felt as if the pain in his body couldn't get any worse, it did. Tord was still horrified at what he had done. It seemed then his hunger for power took over him, nearly making him go insane.  
"TOM?!" Tord screamed, full on crying now.  
There was so much he needed to say to his friends. He needed to apologize. He needed to tell them that their friendship wasn't a joke. He needed to tell them what they meant to him. 

If he died before he could say any of these things to his friends, they would still hate him long after he was dead.  
Tord felt a wave of dizziness rush over him. It was probably from blood loss. No. No no, no, no, no! He had to get to his friends first, at least. His heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears. The image in front of him grew clouded and blurry. Tord could tell his weak body was pleading him to rest. Tord stumbled backwards. Instead of colliding with the ground, two arms wrapped around him. Two arms in blue sleeves.

Tom.

Tord felt himself being gently lowered onto the ground. He could faintly hear Tom’s voice.  
“Easy, T-Tord…Oh my god…Guys…I-I found him…”  
Tom’s ‘eyes’ widened at the sight of Tord’s weak, bloody, curled up body. 

Edd and Matt ran over to Tom, and as soon as Matt laid eyes on Tord, he fainted. Edd just stood there, gaping at the scene before him, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry guys…I lost control- I…I hurt you…and I killed Jon…

…at least I got what I deserved…” 

Tord erupted into a fit of coughing, and clutched his side. He grimaced at the daggers of pain that seemed to stab him in his lungs.  
Tom tried to maintain a calm tone, but his voice still cracked. 

“Tord, please…It’s okay, we’ve all done bad things…It’s my fault you’re even in this condition…Just hang in there…Edd, call the hospital…”

“Tom?” Tord whispered, offering a sad smile.

“Yes, Tord?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m already out of time.”

He fluttered his eyelids. Tom’s profile became more burry, and un-focused. He could barely feel anything now.  
The last thing he remembered was hearing Edd shouting at Tord to wake up and Tom sobbing before he was swallowed by the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> meh
> 
> I hope you enjoyed
> 
>  
> 
> i'm actually not sure if i rated this well because 'General audiences' includes children.....  
> oh well.


End file.
